


an artist's top hat

by Inkonstantin



Series: Everyone whose name is written in this notebook will die (and everyone whose name isn't written there, too, since technically everyone dies) [2]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Autistic L (Death Note), Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, L is a Little Shit (Death Note), L is a Troll (Death Note), POV L (Death Note), Random & Short, hat metaphors, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkonstantin/pseuds/Inkonstantin
Summary: L didn't like wearing hats. Up until Light started trying to knock them off his head.
Relationships: L & Yagami Light
Series: Everyone whose name is written in this notebook will die (and everyone whose name isn't written there, too, since technically everyone dies) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026709
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	an artist's top hat

**Author's Note:**

> it's been legit years, but my friend recently got me back into the Death Note fandom, and so i just wanted to write something to get back into L's head. maybe someone out there will enjoy/get something out of it?

**an artist's top hat**

It is quite impossible for anybody to truly like L. L is very aware of this, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. What bothers him is only people thinking that he _should_ care whether or not they like him. Why should he care? Their opinions have as little on him as hats that they keep trying to stick on his head. 

L doesn’t like wearing hats. 

In any case, he knows why it’s impossible for anybody to truly like him. It’s because they all expect to him to be this or that thing to them, and he couldn’t be any of the things even if he wanted to be. Which he doesn’t. 

Matsuda wants a friend, which is actually quite funny, because nobody’s wanted _that_ from L before. Matsuda wants him to care, on a personal level—but L doesn’t, and he won’t, because he’s just a kid who wants to play his games. He’d prefer to play alone, but this one happens to require other players. Oh well. 

In a sense, what _everyone_ wants from is _care_ —the others, though, as is more typical of what people want L to care _about_ , what they want from is care for _justice_. That, at least, he’s used to _pretending_ to care about. Or, well, _claiming_ that he cares about. Saying it. With words. Usually that’s enough to give people suspension of disbelief. Why they’ll never be able to _truly_ like him, though, is because he doesn’t back any of those words up with actions. He’s just a kid playing his games. 

It’s why even Watari doesn’t truly _like_ him. Watari finds him useful. Because _Watari_ cares about the world—justice, and all that. L is a tool for exacting Watari’s idea of justice, and L is quite happy to do so, but he doesn’t _care_ about it. He’s just a kid who wants to play his games. His games just so happen to be useful to Watari. Which is why Watari likes him, but doesn’t _truly_ like him, because he still wishes, on a certain level, that L _cared_. For years, Watari has been _trying_ to get L to care. It hasn’t worked. 

They have a working relationship. It just so happens to be one they’re both generally quite content with. It’s a _kind_ of care—maybe. 

Then there’s Light, and Light is interesting. Because what most people want from L is for him to wear their opinion-hats. They’re all always trying to put their hats on him. It’s quite annoying, that huge stack of hats they stick on his head. He understands that they’re useful for getting people to do what he wants, when he needs them to, so he doesn’t usually purposefully knock them off unless he happens to be feeling particularly spiteful and there’s no more reason to need them to do something for him, but the stack of hats is still quite annoying, so he doesn’t usually bother conducting himself so that they don’t accidentally fall off, either. 

What’s different and interesting about Light is that Light isn’t trying to stick any hats on him—rather, Light is trying to _find him beneath_ all the hats. Light is trying to knock _off_ all the hats that everyone’s stuck on him, and show what he really is underneath it all: not quite human. 

It’s pretty funny, because L has never felt the need to _hold_ any of the hats onto his head, except for now that Light is trying to knock them off. And it’s funny to do so, because Light can _see_ that they’re hats, and he can see that L knows they’re hats, and that he knows that Light knows that they’re hats, and so he’s holding them onto his head just to spite him. And it pisses Light off, so it’s quite funny. 

L has always disliked wearing his hats. But now that _Light_ also dislikes his hats, L now is quite enjoying wearing them. 

L quite likes Light. Because Light isn’t trying to _project_ anything _onto_ him, but is trying to _uncover_ him. Light isn’t trying to make him be someone he’s not, Light is trying to discover _who he actually is_. It’s entirely new, and it’s quite nice. 

L supposes he likes Light because they’re similar: because L likes uncovering who people are beneath the hats they wear, too. Light also wears a lot of hats, and he’s very good at wearing them and seamlessly switching them out. Somewhere underneath all those hats is the Kira hat. 

Which is part of the thing: Light _is_ Kira, but Kira isn’t _Light_. Because Kira is just a hat that Light wears. _Light_ is whatever’s hiding beneath the Kira hat, along with all the other hats. 

If L weren’t so preoccupied trying to uncover Light’s Kira hat, he thinks he might also have wanted to uncover who _Light_ is, beneath that hat. 

“How do you feel about hats, Light-kun?” L asks him once, curiously, watching him. Light is very fun to watch, because he’s so calculated. At L’s question, Light looks at him, and he’s obviously confused about the question at first, but then his eyes narrow as he looks at L, because he’s suspicious, because he’s trying to figure out why L is asking the question and what he means by it, because he needs to figure that out so he can now how to tailor his answer perfectly. Because Light’s answers are always perfect. Because he tailors them perfectly like that. 

Light is a very talented milliner. Which makes it very funny watching him try to dissemble all of L’s hats, because Light is much more used to assembling them than dissembling them, and his incredibly skilled hat-assembly makes his clumsy hat-dissassembly attempts quite funny. It’s like watching a cat that’s new to large bodies of water being in its way trying to figure out how to swim so it can get across. But the cat actually hates the water, so it keeps trying to cheat, but cheating at swimming doesn’t work. It’s just clumsy flailing, and it’s quite entertaining. 

L can see in Light’s eyes that look of a cat analyzing the water it hates and would much rather avoid but also desperately wants to cross as Light attempts to analyze his question and whatever hidden intention he might have behind it, and what’s hilarious about that is that there is no hidden intention behind it: L is really just asking Light’s opinion on hats, simple as that. He’s honestly just curious. There’s no real meaning behind the question. But Light _thinks_ there is, because Light thinks there’s a hidden intention behind _everything_ that L says and does. Which is why Light is so very bad at finding it: because most of the time, it isn’t _there_ to find, because it doesn’t _exist_. 

So it’s very funny as Light regards him with those suspicious eyes and says, tailored to be perfectly safe and mundane: “Hats? They can be useful for keeping the sun off your face, or for keeping your head warm when it’s cold.” 

It makes L grin, because that _is_ the point of wearing hats, isn’t it? Hiding your face from being fully illuminated in the sun; insulating your head from being attacked by the cold. That’s the main thing about hats: they _protect_. 

Light is very practical. 

Light narrows his eyes at L further, made even more mistrustful by L’s smile. “Why do you ask?” he inquires, tone perfectly mild but question very transparently pointed. L would say that Light’s intense suspicion of everything is practically paranoia. 

Well, to be fair, L _is_ trying to prove that Light is Kira. That Light thinks that even asking about something as mundane as hats might be part of that is still pretty funny, though. 

So L just shrugs and says, “I was just curious,” but kind of goes along with Light’s suspicion by adding, “I think it’s interesting, though, that you mentioned sun hats and warm hats but neglected to mention how hats can be used to identify someone’s role to others, such as police hats.” 

This of course makes Light narrow his eyes at L further, because now he thinks that with that statement L is trying to pin him in some way, but L doesn’t even know how he’d do that. It’s quite funny seeing Light try to figure out how he might be able to do so, though. L could consider it himself, but he’s more interested in the question of hats themselves and all the different purposes of hats, and he brings his thumb to his mouth as he realizes: “What is the point of chef hats?” 

Light just stares at him, his mistrust and paranoia replaced temporarily by perplexity, and L meets his gaze and inquires in quite genuine curiosity, “There’s no practical reason for a chef to wear a hat, right? But it doesn’t seem like the purpose should be identification, either, because generally chefs work in the kitchen and no one sees them, right?” 

Light blinks at him, and his temporary perplexity has once again fallen back to paranoid mistrust as his eyes narrow again and he says with perfect carefulness, “Chefs wear hats to keep any hair from falling into the food, right?” and L brightens considerably, because that makes _sense_ , and so he now considers the mystery which had been bothering him solved. 

“Light-kun is very smart,” L praises, incredibly pleased. “I hadn’t thought of that.” 

Light just looks at him, gaze flat and unimpressed. “I imagine you’ve never cooked anything, L,” he says blandly, and L looks back at him, now curious, so he asks, “Do you cook, Light-kun?”

Light’s expression is perfectly bland as he says, also with perfect blandness, “I can cook,” and L rather amusedly guesses that whatever Light cooks is definitely not as bland as his expression and tone. 

“The girls must love you,” L says, and Light looks at him with that rather impressive blandness and says, “You know that they do.”

It makes L grin. 

Yes, he really does like Light Yagami. It’s kind of a shame that Light’s Kira. 

But then again, if Light _weren’t_ Kira, then L would never have found him and gotten to engage with him like this, so L supposes Light’s being Kira really isn’t actually a shame at all. 

L knows himself enough to realize that he only likes Light because Light is playing this game with him, because he really is just a kid who doesn’t care about anything outside of playing his games. 

He looks at Light, and feels obliged to say, “Thank you, Light-kun.” 

Light, of course, is suspicious, and he looks at L with narrowed eyes and asks carefully, “For what?” 

Of course, L can’t actually explain why he’s actually grateful to Light, so he just says instead, “For solving the mystery about the chef hats,” and Light looks at him quite disbelievingly, so L runs his thumb over his lower lip and adds, “The question was really bothering me.” 

“Sometimes,” Light tells him, “I really can’t believe you’re L.” 

L looks at him, considering that statement, and asks Light curiously, “If I wasn’t L, who else would I be?” 

The perplexity is back in Light’s very-very-slightly widened eyes, and then he quite deliberately closes them and exhales very carefully. L has evidently vexed him, which is pretty funny. L is a pretty vexing person, he’s aware. Light probably doesn’t like him in the least. Must suck being chained to him, L thinks, and smiles about it. 

It’s essentially scientifically impossible for anyone to actually _like_ him, after all. Whatever Light feels regarding him—well, it’s _something_ , certainly, but it certainly isn’t _liking_. L is not actually entirely sure if it’s _dislike_ , necessarily, because it’s very difficult to tell with Light because Light really does his best to hide everything, and Light’s best is very, very good. 

In the end, though, it really doesn’t actually matter whether Light dislikes or even hates him, or even if he did happen to actually like him in whatever way. L has never cared what anyone thinks or feels about him, and so he doesn’t actually care what Light thinks or feels about him, either. He just likes playing the game—and Light, whether he likes or dislikes L, either way he’s playing the game with him. For L, that’s enough. 

When L does think about it, though, mentally poking at the question of what Light’s feelings regarding him might be just out of simple curiosity, his best guess is that Light probably just likes the game, too. The player himself doesn’t really matter, so long as he plays. 

And if anything could be said about L, it’s that he’s _definitely_ playing. 

L had been looking up at the ceiling, lost in thought, but then he’s aware of Light staring at him, and so he looks over at him, meeting his gaze. Light’s eyes are narrowed ever so slightly, as they almost always are, at least whenever he’s looking at L. 

L tilts his head, regarding him in return, wondering what’s going on Light’s head and brushing his thumb over his lip in thought. “Let me guess,” he says then, and his lips curve: “You’re wondering what’s going on in my head, aren’t you, Light-kun?” 

Light’s eyes narrow further, and L smiles wider, because that’s good enough admission that he was right, and it’s of course funny because he was wondering the exact same thing about Light. He wonders if maybe it’s like a House of Mirrors, the way they they interact with each other. 

L leans forward and takes a sugar biscuit from the tray on the table, then leans back in his chair, taking a bite. It snaps crisply between his teeth and fills his mouth with sweetness, making him lick the crumbs from his lips. Glancing over at Light, he asks curiously, “Have you ever been in a House of Mirrors, Light-kun?” and watches as Light narrows his eyes at him, obviously wondering what his angle is. 

There isn’t one. 

L, watching Light watch him watching him and feeling the House of Mirrors unfolding endlessly in his mind, takes another bite of the sugar biscuit and then licks the crumbs from his smile. 


End file.
